


RWND

by Bookkbaby



Series: VIDEO [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Explicit Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1430440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookkbaby/pseuds/Bookkbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after the events of REC, Cas is ready to move forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	RWND

**Author's Note:**

> There is a dream sequence at the beginning with a rape scene in it. Skip the italicized parts to avoid.
> 
> If I've forgotten a warning or a tag, please let me know!

_Castiel came to slowly._

_He was in an unfamiliar bedroom, he noted. That fact alone didn't make him nervous, but when the slightly chilled air brushed across nothing but his bare skin, he felt unease begin to creep in._

_He didn't really begin to panic until he tried to get up and realized that his hands were chained to the headboard. Cas pulled at the restraints but they were well-made and solid._

_The door to the bedroom opened and Cas jerked his gaze towards the sound._

_Dean stood there, but at the same time, he wasn't Dean. The man blinked at him, eyes going pitch black as he grinned._

_"Glad to see you're awake," the demon purred. "I told you, blue eyes, that if I could find a way to get you here, I would."_

_"No," Cas said, voice barely above a whisper in his shock. He shook his head and moved his legs to cover himself, memories he'd tried to bury resurfacing with a vengeance. The demon chuckled._

_"Why so modest? I've seen it all before," he said, approaching the bed without bothering to shut the door. The demon wearing Dean's face casually removed his shirt as he moved closer._

_"You don't have my consent," Cas said, though part of him knew it was futile. As expected, the demon simply chuckled again and shed his pants. He wore no underwear and, as he climbed naked onto the bed, Cas saw that he was already aroused. Cas felt nauseated and tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go._

_"Oh, but I do," the demon replied easily, cupping Castiel's cheek in a parody of sweetness. "You already told me 'yes'."_

_Cas shook his head sharply, dislodging the hand._

_"No, I didn't- I didn't mean-" he started. The demon laughed loudly, cutting him off._

_"Too late," he said. He stroked Castiel's face again. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I_ am _going to fuck you now."_

_Cas turned his head, trying to bite at the offending hand, but the demon pulled it back, then seized his chin and forced Cas to look him in the eye._

_"I've been patient, angel. I've been nice," he warned. "I could have trussed you up like a pig before you woke, but all I tied were your hands."_

_"How kind," Cas growled. The demon's expression darkened further._

_"If you want to see me cruel, you have only to ask."_

_Then the demon was upon him, lips claiming Castiel's in a mockery of a kiss. It was dominance, nothing more, and Cas choked on the demon's tongue when the creature shoved it down his throat._

_"You still taste fucking amazing," he said. His hands wandered over Cas's body, raking his nails along a nipple, along Cas's ribs, over the fine trail of hair leading down Cas's stomach._

_"No," Cas choked out at the first brush of fingers against his entrance. Cas stared in horror up at the demon, who grinned down at him and slowly shoved the first finger inside. Cas tried to pull away, but the demon put his free hand on Cas's chest and pushed down, pinning him to the bed. With the creature in between his knees, Cas couldn't close his legs._

_"Stop," Cas tried, but the word was caught in his throat. He couldn't speak, he couldn't breathe, and there were more hands now, pulling his legs apart and fingers, multiple, pressing into him and opening him up and it all felt_ wrongwrongwrong _._

_The demon laughed as he moved over Cas and lined himself up. Cas could feel the head of his erection press against him, and still he couldn't move or speak._

No, please, not again.

This is _wrong._

_Then the demon thrust in, and Cas screamed._

"Cas!"

He was being shaken. Cas's eyes flew open and he struck out, catching his attacker in the jaw. The demon yelped in surprise and pain as Cas scrambled to get off the bed, adrenaline pumping so high he didn't register the lack of restraints around his wrists or the loose, comfortable pajamas he was wearing.

He looked around for a weapon, mind already calculating possible routes of escape.

There was nothing. He whirled around, ready to fight, and then stopped.

The demon was on the bed, working his jaw and rubbing the sore spot where Cas had hit him. His shoulders were slumped as though there was a heavy weight laid across them and he was watching Cas with tired, sad eyes.

He was also wearing pajama pants and a T-shirt.

Cas registered the brush of cotton against his own legs and arms.

He lowered his hands, reality settling in as the dream faded. His body felt leaden and chilled, guilt weighing down his stomach.

"I'm sorry, Dean," he said. He walked hesitantly back to the bed, something in him still twisting in fear as he sat next to Dean and carefully touched the forming bruise on Dean's face.

"Not your fault, Cas," Dean said. He covered Cas's hand with his own. "You were having a nightmare."

Cas nodded. Dean didn't need to ask what the nightmare had been about. He already knew.

It had been two months since their encounter with Dean's counterparts. The fear hadn't hit Cas right away, but with the revelation that everything he'd endured for some facsimile of Dean's touch had been completely unnecessary... the nightmares had started then. The emotions he'd been so carefully repressing had crashed through him; the fear, the guilt, the disgust, and the shame had all broken through the mental dam he hadn't even realized he'd kept them locked behind.

That night had been the first night he'd shown up at Dean's door in the wee hours of the morning, pale and shaking and desperate for the comfort of a soft touch. He'd needed _his_  Dean to remind him that he was different from his counterparts.

Dean had woken up at Cas's first hoarse cry of his name and simply held Cas until he fell back asleep. His touches had been careful, comforting and undemanding, and Cas had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

He'd returned to his own bed the next night, hopeful that the nightmare was a one-time occurrence. Then it had happened again three nights later, and again two nights after that. Cas had slept in Dean's bed ever since. The nightmares had mostly abated, though there were still nights like this, when Cas woke up fighting to escape from a monster wearing Dean's face.

Dean had been incredibly patient with him. So far, the most intimate they'd gotten was sharing a bed and intense, wonderful kisses when they could steal a moment. Cas knew that Dean wanted to go further.

Hell, _Cas_  wanted to go further, but sometimes the husk of Dean's voice was too familiar, the sensation of his hot hands too much like Cas's memories, and Cas would find himself freezing up in Dean's hold. He'd immediately force himself to relax, but by then the damage would be done and the 'mood' (as Dean called it) would be effectively shattered.

"I could go back to my room," Cas offered, reluctantly breaking the quiet between them. Dean shook his head.

"You said you sleep better here, right?" The question was rhetorical. "Let's just go back to bed."

Cas nodded. He slid beneath the covers again and cautiously moved closer to Dean. Dean's touch was, as always, gentle and careful and comforting.

Cas wanted more than this. He wanted to be able to give Dean more than just kisses and he wanted to allow Dean more than just this embrace. He wanted to give Dean everything.

He _would_  give Dean everything.

Cas breathed in deeply and felt the resolve settle like steel in his chest.

He wanted Dean's touch to burn away the memories and the nightmares. He wanted to build new memories on top of the old and bury them. He wanted memories of gentleness and care - Dean would be a generous lover, Cas was sure - to replace the memories of shame and degradation.

More than anything else, he wanted to be with Dean. Cas wanted to be as close to Dean as he could get; even lying here like this, with Dean's arms looped loosely around him and his arm flung over Dean's waist, they were not close enough.

Tonight. He would do it tonight.

Cas shut his eyes and tried to will down the nervous excitement creeping through his veins.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cas took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands through his well-rinsed hair one more time. He lingered under the spray, water now more lukewarm than hot, trying to draw up his courage.

He'd been somewhat subdued for most of the day. Dean hadn't pried, most likely chalking it up to the nightmare. Cas was thankful for that, as he didn't know how he'd explain what he was feeling if he'd had to try.

He wanted Dean. That feeling was familiar, dating back before he'd even Fallen. The chance to realize his desire was exciting, thrilling; his very blood sang for it.

He loved Dean. That feeling was familiar too, and even older than the desire for physical intimacy.

But at the same time, fear lurked deep in his gut.

Cas knew Dean wanted him. Dean wanted him as badly as Cas wanted Dean, in the exact same ways, but he would never push. Cas could feel it; in the press of Dean hot and hard against him some mornings and the subsequent guilt on Dean's face, the gentleness with which Dean handled Cas after a nightmare, the soft kisses they exchanged with hunger lurking a careful distance below the surface.

Dean loved him and desired him, and Cas knew that Dean would not press him. Not after... well, not after. Dean would wait for him as long as Cas needed, even if it took him many months more. Even if it took years.

Cas wanted to be ready _now_.

He sighed and turned off the shower. He stood there, dripping for a moment, then grabbed the white, fluffy towel he'd flung over the shower curtain rod. He began to dry himself carefully, methodically, trying to concentrate on the feel of soft cotton against his skin and nothing else.

He'd been very thorough in his ablutions. Cas tried to ignore the sudden sense of deja vu he got as he stepped out of the shower.

That night, he had washed up, true, but tonight he had showered. It wasn't the same, even if it felt oddly similar. Tonight, he was cleaner, even if he didn't feel that way.

Cas towel-dried his hair and finger-combed it to what he hoped looked presentable. He wrapped the towel around his waist and tucked the corner in to secure it. Cas hadn't brought clean clothes with him into the bathroom. He hadn't wanted to back out and the idea of dressing before going to Dean had left him uneasy.

The sense of deja vu was back.

He forced it away and took another deep breath. Clutching the white towel tightly around his waist, he shut off the light and exited the bathroom.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean sat on the bed with his back resting against the headboard. He flipped through an old, well-loved copy of _Slaughterhouse Five_ , not really paying attention to the words on the page.

Cas should be back any minute. He tended to linger in the shower longer than Sam or Dean did (well, at least longer than Sam, since Dean knew how to enjoy such luxuries as hot water and good water pressure). Cas always took his time and had since he'd Fallen, though it seems his showers had only gotten longer since their run-in with the dimension-travelling witches and Dean's counterparts.

Dean tried not to read too much into that.

Still, even for Cas, it had been a while. Dean was half-considering getting up and heading to the bathroom to check and make sure he hadn't fallen when the door opened. Dean looked up.

His mouth went dry.

Cas stood in the doorway, still damp from the shower. His hair was plastered in dark curls against his forehead and neck. Dean swallowed heavily, his body heating despite himself at the sight.

"You forget your PJs?" Dean asked, trying for nonchalance. His eyes betrayed him, riveted as they were to Cas's exposed skin. He cleared his throat and guiltily jerked his eyes away from Cas's chest and hips.

Cas was staring at him, gaze intense and determined. Dean felt a not-unpleasant shiver go up his spine.

Cas shut the door. The soft 'clack' of the latch catching sounded loud in the still air. Dean watched as Cas took a deep breath, eyes once more straying to the water beading on Cas's skin, and then Cas walked forward.

Dean watched, mouth dry as sun-bleached bone, as Cas gently reached out and took his book. He'd forgotten he'd even been holding it. Dean's eyes raked over Cas's hands as he slid the bookmark in place, then his gaze trailed up Cas's arms and over the exposed skin of his chest.

"Cas?" Dean asked.

Cas climbed into Dean's lap, straddling the beginnings of Dean's erection without appearing to notice or care that Dean was getting hard. Dean's hands automatically went to Cas's hips to balance him. His lips parted as Cas brought their mouths together in a deep, spine-tingling kiss.

And through all this, Cas still hadn't said a word.

Cas broke away and rested his forehead against Dean's. He breathed in deeply and, finally, spoke.

"Dean," he said. "Make love to me."

Dean stared, stunned. Cas met his gaze evenly, completely serious.

"What?" Dean managed to say. His body was more than on board with the idea, dick jumping at the words he'd before called 'overly sentimental'. Cas shifted in Dean's lap and glanced away briefly before looking at Dean again. He took another deep breath.

"Make love to me," he repeated, more firmly this time.

Dean opened his mouth, but had no idea how to respond. His first instinct was to wonder if Cas had somehow gotten himself possessed, but he dismissed the thought as it occurred. For one, this was the bunker, and Dean had yet to find something that this place wasn't thoroughly warded against.

For two, the tension in Cas's frame and the apprehension in his eyes... that was all Cas.

Dean closed his mouth and breathed deeply through his nose.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. Cas nodded stiffly.

"I am." He leaned in and kissed Dean again. Dean reached up and cupped his cheek, using his other hand to skim gently along Cas's side and back. Cas was still tense, stiff in all the wrong ways, and as much as Dean wanted to be selfish and take Cas at his word, he couldn't.

"Cas," he said when the kiss broke. "We don't have to."

Dean wanted to. _God_ , he wanted to. There were a lot of mornings he woke up hard and many days he took care of himself in the shower because he refused to be the one to approach Cas. Cas would come to him when he was ready and until then, Dean would wait.

Dean wanted to believe that the time was now, but he couldn't. Cas was still so tense above him.

"I know," Cas said. He was still staring at Dean, completely serious.

Dean could see the determination in his eyes and hesitated, his entreaty to wait caught on his tongue. He wanted this, Cas clearly wanted to try, and if Cas thought he was ready...

"If we do this," Dean began, concern as thick as the desire in his voice. "If you want me to stop, you'll tell me to stop? For whatever reason. Just..." He swallowed. "I want this to be good for you."

"It will be," Cas said. His heart was pounding in his chest, but his nerves didn't show in his voice. He swallowed heavily. "I trust you, Dean."

He did, but it didn't stop the spark of anxiety that shot through him at the thought of what they were going to do. Still, he didn't move, waiting for Dean's response.

Still, Dean hesitated.

"You'll tell me to stop?" he asked again. Cas nodded.

"Yes." He waited on pins and needles. He wanted this, wanted it with a desperation that surprised even himself, and for a moment, he worried that Dean would refuse him in the name of protecting him.

Dean leaned in and kissed Cas again.

"Ok," he said. "Ok."

Cas let out a breath of relief. Dean patted his hip gently, a silent request for Cas to get off his lap, and Cas quickly complied. Dean got off the bed and began tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head. Cas watched avidly as Dean stripped, his eyes raking over tanned skin as it was bared. Anticipation mixed with fear coiled in his gut at the sight of the familiar-yet-not body in front of him.

Cas focused on the scars, the thin white lines and raised bumps of burns and scratches. Dean hadn't had those when Cas had remade him, and so were completely new. Well, save one. Cas's eyes lingered on the handprint-scar on Dean's shoulder, some of his anxiety dissipating at the sight.

The other Deans had not had those marks.

The other Deans had not been his.

Dean turned back to the bed and Cas found his gaze dropping. Dean was partially hard, not yet fully erect, and not ashamed of his nudity. Cas felt a small wave of deja vu and breathed in deeply. He squashed the feeling, eyes returning to the scar on Dean's shoulder.

Dean's eyes flashed with concern and he opened his mouth to speak. Cas felt another frission of worry that he'd be denied this and beat Dean to the punch.

"Dean..." Cas breathed in. "Don't stop unless I tell you to."

Too many times, they'd fallen naturally into one another and then stopped because Cas had momentarily lost himself in a memory. Tonight, Cas wanted to break through the memories, even if that meant enduring brief reminders while he built new ones to take their place.

Dean hesitated. Cas met his eyes.

"Please."

Dean's resistance crumbled.

"Ok," he said again, albeit more reluctantly. He climbed back onto the bed and shot Cas a reassuring smile. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed Cas sweetly, unhurriedly, and for a moment Cas almost forgot that they were both naked. Well, in his case, practically naked.

Cas considered Dean's question for a moment, going over what little he knew about the way modern humans copulated. The list was rather short and much of it was tainted by his sole experience. He knew there were certain things he did not want to do again, but as for what he wanted to try, he had no answer.

"I'm not sure," he said. Dean nodded like he had expected that answer.

"How about you tell me what to do and I'll do it?" Dean suggested. "Whatever you want, Cas."

Cas paused for a moment, memories of being forced to beg, words shoved in his mouth and spat back out in exchange for ultimately nothing but more shame. He mentally shook himself, banishing the recollections back down.

"Do I..." Cas swallowed. "Do I have to say the words?"

Dean's eyes widened and he looked down. Cas could imagine what he was thinking. If Cas couldn't express what he wanted and Dean dared not go beyond the boundaries of what Cas could say, this was likely to be very unsatisfying for them both.

Cas didn't even know what it was he wanted; how was he supposed to put it into words?

He was just about to offer to try when Dean looked up again, an idea shining in his eyes.

"How about this, then?" he said. "I'll tell you exactly what I want to do to you and you tell me 'yes' or 'no'."

Cas smiled, relieved.

"I can do that," he said. Dean grinned and leaned in.

"I want to kiss you," he said lowly. The desire in his eyes intensified and Cas felt a pleasant shiver go down his spine. He and Dean had already kissed, been kissing, had kissed many, many times, but the implied request sent a special thrill through Cas. Why, he didn't know.

"Yes. You have blanket permission for that," Cas said. His voice sounded somewhat breathless even to his own ears and he saw Dean's pupils dilate at the sound.

"Where?" Dean asked. He was close enough that each word was a puff of air against Cas's lips. "Your mouth? Your cheek? Your-"

"Anywhere," Cas said. He closed the distance between them and kissed Dean, making a noise crossways between a sigh and a moan when Dean licked into his mouth. The kiss broke. "You can kiss me anywhere, Dean."

Dean shivered, warmth spiking in his blood and his heart at the trust Cas had just placed in him.

"Then I will," Dean said. He gently kissed Cas again. "I want to blow you."

The words may have been dirty, but the softness to Dean's voice and the silent question in his kiss made them anything but vulgar.

Cas kissed back, opening his mouth to the careful prodding of Dean's tongue. He shivered, pleasantly so, and moaned as Dean licked into his mouth.

Cas let his hands roam, constantly moving them and memorizing the feel of Dean's skin beneath his palms. He relished the ability to touch. He delighted in the way Dean shivered when his nails raked lightly over the man's back. He grounded himself in the here-and-now with the sensation of Dean's flesh at his fingertips.

"Please. Yes," he managed to say. Dean smiled at him.

"Let me explore a little?" he asked, pressing a chaste kiss to Cas's jaw. "I want to make you feel good, find all the places you like my mouth and my hands..."

"Everywhere," Cas replied immediately. Dean chuckled despite himself.

"One thing at a time, sweetheart," he said, the endearment slipping off his tongue before he could catch it. He cleared his throat. "I want to start with your neck. I want to kiss my way down it and leave my marks on your skin."

Cas shivered and bit his lip as he considered it. Dean was in no hurry; he kissed Cas's temple, his cheek, nuzzled into the side of Cas's jaw, his lips millimeters away from the tender flesh of Cas's throat.

The sensation of Dean's breath on his neck conjured up a memory, one of blunt teeth turning sharp and painful, and Cas shuddered.

"No teeth," he said. "And... don't suck." He could almost feel the vampire's mouth latched onto his neck, the teeth dug in as the creature had begun draining him-

"But kissing is ok?" Dean asked, pulling Cas out of the memory. Cas nodded.

"Yes, kissing... kissing would be nice," he said. He hesitantly tilted his head, offering up his neck to Dean's mouth, but Dean sought out his lips first for another slow kiss. Cas felt some of his tension ease and, when he offered his neck again, he felt less nervous.

"Thank you," Dean murmured, so quietly Cas wasn't sure he heard it. Then Dean was dragging his mouth over Cas's neck, lips wet and parted and leaving damp trails behind. Cas shivered and tilted his head more as Dean kissed his way back up over each trail. Dean nuzzled Cas's neck, lips soothing any hint of stubble burn.

Dean kissed and kissed and kissed that spot where his shoulder met neck, like it's where he'd suck a bruise if Cas had allowed it. Even the gentle pressure of Dean's mouth sent jolts of pleasure through Cas and he wondered, briefly, what it would be like for Dean to nip at the skin and leave a mark.

Perhaps he would ask for that next time.

"Love that you trust me with this," Dean said into Cas's throat. He kissed his way over the cords of muscle down to Cas's pulse point and spent a moment just worshipping it with his mouth. Cas could feel his heart racing and wondered if his pulse was beating a drum against Dean's lips. "Love that you're letting me take care of you, Cas."

There were a million things Cas wanted to say, starting with 'thank you' and ending with 'I love you', but the words all caught in Cas's throat. Dean looked up.

"Can I continue?" he asked.

Cas nodded.

"I'm going to kiss these gorgeous collarbones," Dean said. "Then I'm going to work down your chest with my mouth. I want to kiss your nipples, find out how sensitive they are. I want to touch you everywhere."

"Yes," Cas said breathlessly. Dean grinned and immediately began on his self-appointed task to worship Cas's body. Cas found himself relaxing easily under the attentions of Dean's mouth. The care Dean took with him was so different from the aborted foreplay of the others.

Dean's mouth trailed kisses over his collarbones, as promised, and down his pectoral muscles. Dean's mouth latched onto one nipple, kissing and licking, and one of his hands came up to tug and rub at the other. Cas gasped, back arching involuntarily. Dean chuckled lowly.

"Looks like you're sensitive here," he said. He ran his lower lip around the edge of the areola and then pulled away just enough to blow gently on the damp skin. Cas shivered, moaning quietly when Dean's other hand came up to rub the now-stiff peak.

"Dean," he said. His hips jerked up of their own accord, his erection rubbing against Dean's thigh through the cloth of the now-loose towel. Dean groaned.

"Ok, moving along," Dean said quickly. His mouth skimmed over Cas's skin, only pausing to press light kisses along Cas's abdomen. Cas could feel the muscles beneath Dean's mouth twitch and he squirmed. Dean chuckled, nosing around Cas's navel and kissing the thin hairs that grew around it and made a trail that disappeared beneath Cas's towel.

"Ticklish, huh? Didn't see that one coming..." Dean said. He placed his hands at the top of the towel and looked up to meet Cas's eyes again. "I'm going to take off your towel now, ok?"

" _Yes_ ," Cas said, more of a demand than a gift of permission. Dean mouthed at Cas's belly while he slid his fingers beneath the edge of the towel and began to peel it away. Cas breathed in sharply as the first wave of air hit his newly-bared skin. Dean paused, then continued when Cas wiggled his pelvis impatiently.

"Lift your hips for me," Dean asked. He pressed more kisses to the now-exposed skin and tugged Cas's towel out from under him when Cas did as asked.

The sheets felt oddly cool against his bare flesh, Cas noted as he settled back down. He breathed deeply and evenly. Cas dug his hands into the sheets at his sides, needing something to cling to as Dean continued exploring Cas with his lips and tongue.

Dean ignored Cas's erection for the moment, though Cas knew it was coming. Instead, Dean seemed content to run his hands over Cas's hipbones and kiss at his inner thighs. Cas moaned and jerked his hips.

" _Dean_ ," he said.

Dean slid a hand inward and lightly caressed the skin just above Cas's cock. Cas moaned.

"You want my mouth on you now?" Dean asked, certain of the answer.

"Yes," Cas breathed out. Dean's hand encircled the base of Cas's dick and gave it a long, slow stroke. Cas gasped and thrust up. " _Dean_."

There was a puff of warm air at the head of his erection, a tentative lick, and then _heat_. Cas took a shuddering breath as Dean lowered his head.

Dean's mouth was amazing. It was wet-hot around him, Dean's lips stretched around Cas, and his hand stroking up from the base every time Dean bobbed his head. He was slow, almost worshipful.

This was nothing like when the demon had wrapped his lips around Cas's dick. That had been done just to get him hard, to torture him that little bit extra with denied pleasure. This was nothing _but_  pleasure.

And very suddenly, Cas knew it wouldn't be enough.

"Dean," he moaned. His hand fisted tighter in the bedsheets. Dean made a small sound in the back of his throat, encouraging. "Dean, stop."

Dean drew back from Cas like he'd been burned. His mouth was damp with saliva and puffy from the suction.

"Cas?" Dean said, voice slightly hoarse. He made an aborted movement to reach out and touch Cas, but stopped, worried tension in every line of his body.

It struck Cas that Dean was afraid he'd hurt Cas, that he'd triggered some kind of sense-memory. On the heels of that realization, Cas surged across the bed

and threw his arms around Dean. Dean's arms came up around him automatically, though his body was still tense.

"I'm fine," Cas reassured him quickly. He swallowed and hesitantly rolled his hips, grinding his erection against Dean. Dean groaned. "I'm fine, I promise."

Dean was relaxing by increments in Cas's hold. Cas pulled back enough to press a wet, messy kiss to Dean's lips, hoping it was enough of an indication of his willingness to continue.

Dean relaxed fully and returned the kiss.

"You said 'stop'," Dean said. It wasn't quite a question, but there was curiosity there. Uncertainty.

"I meant 'wait'," Cas said, smiling wryly. Dean frowned, concerned.

"Too much?"

Cas took a deep breath.

"Not enough, I think," he said softly. Dean's frown deepened in his confusion. Cas cupped Dean's face with one hand and with the other, he covered the scar he'd once left on Dean's arm. The feel of the familiar burn beneath his palm was comforting, reassuring him that yes, he was safe to ask for what he needed. He squeezed it once for courage.

"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked. Cas opened his mouth, but words failed him.

Instead, he slid his hand down Dean's arm to grab Dean's hand, then guided Dean's hand to his ass. He heard Dean draw in a sharp breath, but ignored the sound in favor of willing himself to stay relaxed as he squeezed his hand around Dean's.

"Cas?" Dean asked uncertainly, even as his grip flexed around the handful of flesh.

"I want you," Cas said. He gently slid Dean's hand further over his ass, until Dean's fingers were practically touching his rim and there could be no doubt what he meant.

Dean seemed to have stopped breathing.

"We don't have to," Dean said. His voice was hoarse but firm, eyes wide and dark with want. Cas looked him straight in the eyes.

"I need to," he said softly. "I want... I want to remember what it feels like with you, not-" He cut himself off and took a shuddering breath.

Dean kissed him then. Softly, slowly, all lips and tongue and Cas relaxed, inch by inch.

"Cas," Dean said lowly. "You have to say it, I have to know this is what you want." He swallowed thickly. "I have to know we're on the same page."

"I want you inside me," Cas said. The words weren't as difficult as he'd thought they'd be, and well worth it for the way Dean shivered upon hearing them. There were a few beats of silence before Dean finally spoke.

"I've got lube in the desk," he said softly. Acquiescence. Cas breathed out.

"Get it. Please," he said. Dean hesitated a moment more, then slid off the bed and walked the two short steps to the desk. Cas got comfortable on the bed, not looking at Dean in an attempt to calm his nerves.

Everything would be fine. This was _his_  Dean, after all.

He lay down on his back and spread his legs, nervousness spiking at the sensation of cool air on the most intimate parts of his body. Once settled, he turned his head to see what was taking Dean so long.

Dean was standing at the desk, the tube of lubricant in his hand, and his eyes fixed on Cas. His lips were parted and, as Cas watched, Dean's tongue came out to wet them.

"Dean?" he said. At the sound, Dean seemed to shake himself.

"Nothing, just..." Dean said. He tore his eyes away from Cas and closed the desk drawer. He climbed back onto the bed and settled himself between Cas's legs, staring down at Cas in arousal and wonder. He opened his mouth, but no more words came out. Dean shook his head.

Cas propped himself up on one elbow and reached out to touch Dean. He ended up cupping his cheek.

"I think I understand," he said. The reality of this was overwhelming when for so long, all Cas had had were fantasies. This was like a dream, except better, because it was real and Cas knew he could keep it from warping into a nightmare.

Dean grinned, a little sadly, and touched Cas's hand. He turned into the touch and kissed Cas's palm.

"Are you ready?" he asked. Cas nodded and dropped his hand. He lay back down and spread his legs again. His heart beat frantically in his chest.

Dean took a deep breath and opened up the bottle of lube. He squirted a generous amount onto his fingers and spread it over them slowly, giving the liquid time to warm up.

Then, he lowered his hand.

One of Dean's fingers circled Cas's entrance, lightly pressing at the ring of muscle but not penetrating. The soft touch was almost teasing, and achingly gentle. There was no sense of urgency behind the caress. Cas could lie here, just like this, and Dean would continue tracing his sensitive skin with a slick finger without pushing for more.

This was nothing like the demon's touch. He had been all about the end goal, getting inside Cas as quickly as he could with minimal damage to Cas's body. Dean, on the other hand, wanted Cas to enjoy the journey as well as the destination.

Cas breathed in. He moved his legs just enough to remind himself that he _could_ , that no one was holding him down, and spread his thighs wider. Dean's finger slipped along his cleft, spreading the lube.

"Dean," Cas said. Dean's hand stilled. Cas cleared his throat. "Stop teasing me."

Dean huffed a quiet, dry laugh.

"It's not teasing if I'm going to follow through," Dean said. "And I will, I just want you nice and relaxed for me."

"I am," Cas insisted. He willed his body to relax fully against the bed and let his legs fall open wider. Dean shook pleasantly at the sight.

"I'm gonna put my first finger in now," he said lowly. Cas nodded.

Dean kissed him and Cas opened his mouth gratefully, body tense with anticipation as Dean's finger slowly circled him again. Dean's other hand cupped Cas's face, thumb stroking over Cas's cheekbone.

Cas's hand came up to rest on the burn scar on Dean's upper arm. He squeezed the mark and relaxed.

"Please," Cas said. Only then did Dean press his finger into Cas's body.

Cas willed himself not to tense, though his grip tightened painfully on Dean's arm. Dean's touch didn't hurt, though Cas could feel the stretch and the slickness of the lube where Dean's finger entered him. The intrusion was shallow at first, not even to the first knuckle.

Dean began a slow stroking motion with his hand, drawing the tip of his finger back out and gently pressing in deeper, then back out and deeper again. Every touch was a caress over Cas's sensitive skin, both inside and out.

It was also hovering at the border of too-familiar, but Cas ignored the feeling and concentrated instead on Dean's mouth. Dean's tongue slid against his as Dean's finger slipped deeper inside and Cas shivered, grabbing desperately at Dean's skin. Dean was warm and real under his palms and so careful where he touched Cas that Cas found himself relaxing once more.

"I've got a whole finger in you," Dean said, sounding almost awed that he was allowed this.

Cas wanted to keep him sounding like that. He wanted to keep allowing this.

"More," he commanded. His voice was steadier than he'd expected.

The second finger was both better and worse than imagined. Dean re-wet his fingers and then began all over again the process he'd used with the first finger. He slid both digits into Cas shallowly, then slowly stroked deeper and deeper. His touch was still achingly gentle. All Cas could feel was the stretch of his inner muscles as they were caressed, almost none of the burn he remembered from last time. Even when Dean began to spread his fingers on every outstroke, Cas felt no pain.

Still, the echoes of the memories lingered. The echoes weren't loud enough for Cas to ask Dean to stop, and faded as the minutes wore on. Cas's body was becoming familiar with the intrusion, more and more so with each gentle stroke.

"Can you take one more for me?" Dean asked, withdrawing his fingers.

"Yes," Cas said. Dean smiled. He grabbed the bottle of lube and re-wet his fingers, then teased at Cas's stretched hole with three of the slick digits. Cas breathed deeply and willed himself not to tense.

Dean seemed to sense that something was amiss. He paused.

"Cas?" he said. Cas nodded and rocked his hips into the touch.

"Keep going, Dean. I want this," he said. He tilted his chin up for another kiss, which Dean happily granted as he began to stroke all three fingers in and out of Cas's body.

It didn't hurt, not exactly, though it hovered at the edge. Even that quickly faded as Dean continued his careful preparation. There was less resistance every time Dean slid his fingers in and out.

In what felt like no time at all, Cas knew that his body was stretched more than sufficiently to accommodate Dean. He knew Dean knew it too, since now his touches were more exploratory than purposeful.

Dean's fingers found his prostate and Cas let out a loud, surprised moan as his hips thrust into the touch. Dean caressed it once, twice more, and Cas shivered as his pleasure flared.

"You're so good for me, baby," Dean said. He kissed Cas again. "You're so nice and loose for me."

"'Baby'?" Cas echoed, anything to distract himself from what he knew was coming next. "I'm not an _infant_ , Dean."

Dean paused to chuckle and Cas, to his private shame and irritation, found himself relaxing when the fingers withdrew.

"I know you're not. It's a term of endearment," Dean said. He nuzzled along Cas's jaw. "If you don't like that one, I won't use it."

"I think I preferred 'sweetheart'," Cas said, half-dry but affectionate. Dean buried his face in Cas's neck and groaned.

Cas was tempted to ask if they could stay like this for a few minutes more, but didn't want to worry Dean into stopping. He ran his hand over Dean's skin, trying to remember where and when he was and with whom. Dean must have taken the touch as encouragement to continue. He pushed himself up and grabbed the lube again, this time squirting a generous amount on his palm. Dean wrapped a hand around himself and quickly stroked his cock to cover it with the lubricant.

Cas's nerves were back in full force as Dean positioned himself between Cas's spread legs. Dean settled himself back over Cas's body, nose to nose, chest to chest, and-

Cas breathed. He could feel blunt pressure at his entrance, not going in but _there, teasing_ , and-

_"You want to tease that hole first."_

"Cas, is this ok?"

_Make 'em beg before you give it to them."_

"You've got to tell me, I won't- Cas?"

Cas wasn't sure what had happened, but his breathing was suddenly harsh and quick. His knees dug in painfully at Dean's sides but _wouldn't close_  and he _couldn't move and_ -

"Cas?!"

The sound of his name broke the stasis the memory had put him in. Cas realized that Dean was trying to get off of him, trying to give him space to calm down, but Cas didn't need space. His legs were still locked at Dean's hips, keeping their hips together and with Dean no longer holding him tight, the moment was rapidly feeling less and less like _now_  and more and more like _then_.

Cas reached for Dean and pulled him back in. Dean let out a soft noise of surprise, but followed Cas's lead and as Cas's arms closed around Dean's back like steel bands, Dean's arms folded around Cas. One arm went between Cas's lower back and the mattress while the other hand went to cradle Cas's head.

"What can I do?" Dean asked. Cas breathed deeply and tried his best to relax, at least enough to speak.

"I..." Cas stopped. He didn't know. "Just give me a minute. I need..." Cas needed to remind his body that tonight was not like that night, but how did he put that in words?

His hand slid back to the mark he'd left on Dean's body. He traced the burned skin over and over with his fingertips, then settled his hand over the mark. He breathed in. He breathed out, and with the breath went some of the tension.

"I want to touch you," Dean said softly. There was no lewd promise in his voice, only quiet longing, and so Cas nodded.

"Please," he said. Dean's hand slid from its position at Cas's head and Dean shifted so he could run his fingers lightly over Cas's sides, his shoulders, his arms. Any patch of bared skin above the waist seemed fair game to Dean's touch, though he was careful to keep the caress soothing rather than erotic.

Cas turned his head and kissed Dean. This, too, was chaste and sweet, and Cas felt the memories fade from immediacy.

"We can stop," Dean said, pressing soft kisses to Cas's cheek and temple. His erection had flagged, but was still warm and thick against Cas's thigh. "Just tell me and we'll stop, Cas."

Cas drew in a deep breath. He concentrated on Dean's hands and the tender way they slid over his skin to soothe him. He concentrated on the delicate, fleeting pressure of Dean's lips on his face, then moved his head to catch Dean's mouth again.

The memory had shaken him, but his resolve had not wavered. He needed to do this and, now more than ever, it had to be tonight.

"Keep going," Cas said. Dean shook his head.

"No. Cas, I don't-"

"If you don't want to, that's one thing," Cas said, his earlier fear of being denied this back in force. His gut churned with the strength of his sudden desperation to _have this_ , despite the setback. He needed a good memory. "But Dean, if it's only me you're worried about... you said you wouldn't stop unless I asked."

Dean looked at him, conflict heavy in his green eyes.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Dean said.

"I'm not _fragile_ , Dean," Cas said tersely. "I'm not going to break." He tried to force himself to relax completely, but his muscles still felt locked up.

Dean smiled wryly.

"I know you're not," Dean said. "But if you don't want to do this right now, it's ok."

He began to push himself up and off Cas's body once more. Cas tightened his arms around Dean, heart pounding frantically in his chest.

"I do," he said urgently. Dean didn't move. "I want to do this, just... give me a moment."

The tension in Dean's body eased a bit and he lowered himself back down to press his body against Castiel's. Cas's breathing hitched, but he didn't tense up again.

"Take all the time you need," Dean said. He rested his forehead against Cas's. "I can wait."

Cas breathed in and out. He concentrated on the sound, on the air in his lungs, and then he noticed that Dean was breathing with him. It didn't seem conscious on Dean's part, but each synchronized breath served to relax Cas even more. Every inhale was shared oxygen. Every exhale was a caress against Cas's skin.

Cas imagined that their hearts were experiencing the same synchrony. If he concentrated, he could even feel Dean's nervous heartbeat pounding in time to his own. As Dean's heartbeat slowed, Cas felt his own fall to match it.

They were already as one in all the ways that mattered. Their breath, hearts, and minds were joined. Surely those were more difficult to match than their flesh?

He melted into Dean. Cas stroked his hands over Dean's skin, calming himself further through touch. Dean waited patiently, shaking a little with effort and quickly re-building arousal.

Cas brought his hand once more to the scar on Dean's shoulder. He fitted his hand against his mark, reassured by the rough, raised skin beneath his palm.

"I'm ready," he said. He kissed Dean lightly. "I'm ready, but... go slow."

"You don't even have to ask," Dean murmured in reassurance. He returned Cas's kiss and slowly slid his hand down Cas's body. "I want you to enjoy this, Cas. I want to get you hard again."

"Do it," Cas said. "Touch me, Dean."

He spread his legs to give Dean's hand more room as it finished its downwards journey. Dean wrapped his hand around Cas's partially-erect cock and began to stroke it, coaxing it back to full hardness. Cas kept his hand on Dean's arm and occasionally lifted his chin for another kiss, a request that was always honored. Cas focused on the pleasure and the care behind Dean's touch and it wasn't long before he felt himself getting hard again.

"Dean, please," he said. He thrust up into Dean's hand. "I'm ready."

"I know, just give me a sec, ok?" Dean said gently. He breathed in. "I want- I need to check and make sure you're still ready for me."

Cas realized that as much as the memory had frightened him, it must have scared Dean too. He cupped Dean's face with a hand and kissed Dean's forehead; a benediction, a blessing, forgiveness, whatever it was Dean thought he needed.

"Go ahead," Cas said. Dean let out a low breath of air and dropped the hand that had been stroking Cas down to his entrance. He slid two somewhat dry fingers in easily. Cas was still so wet with lube that the relative dryness of Dean's fingers hardly mattered. Still, when Dean slid them back out, he pulled away from Cas's embrace just long enough to lube up three of his fingers before sliding them inside Cas.

They went in as easily as two had. Dean still spread his fingers and stretched the muscles, making absolutely certain that Cas would be able to accommodate Dean's girth with no pain.

Dean slid his fingers back out, reassured that Cas was prepared. He stroked his own cock a few times and, satisfied at his own readiness, he once more got into position. He didn't press the head of his dick to Cas's entrance just yet, worried about triggering another memory.

"You're good?" Dean asked. Cas nodded and lifted his hips, his heart pounding.

"Come inside me, Dean," he said. Dean closed his eyes briefly and shook, arousal spiking.

"Ok," he said, guiding his erection to Cas's stretched entrance. "Ok."

Cas grabbed Dean's shoulders and did his best to stay relaxed as Dean pushed against him. Cas could feel his body opening up for the intrusion, the usually tight ring of muscle yielding to the wet, blunt pressure.

Then, Dean was inside. The head of him had slipped past Cas's rim. Dean gave a shuddering breath at the feeling and continued thrusting forward slowly, allowing Cas time to adjust.

"Oh," Cas said, hoarse and surprised. He had prepared himself for pain, remembering the feeling of being split in two last time, but this was so very far from that feeling.

"What is it?" Dean asked, stilling briefly.

"It doesn't hurt," Cas said. There was the slight burn of stretching, but Cas wouldn't call it painful. His body was opening for Dean's, accepting him and swallowing him; it felt like he'd been made for this. He'd been made to have Dean like this. He wondered if the reverse was also true, if Dean had been made to accommodate him in such a way.

Dean looked at him sadly.

"It's not supposed to hurt," he said. "Not if done right."

Cas closed his eyes and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He squeezed his legs at Dean's waist.

"Keep going," he whispered. Dean dropped a chaste kiss on Cas's lips and began moving again, sliding slowly deeper and deeper until, finally, he bottomed out. There, he stilled once more to let Cas's body become wholly familiar with the intrusion.

Cas shook. His whole body trembled with sensation and the memory of sensation, so familiar and yet so different.

"Cas?" Dean said, voice hoarse and low. He pressed light, reassuring kisses to Cas's jawline and neck, his breathing harsh and heavy. "Cas, sweetheart, talk to me."

Cas just held on tighter, mouth opening but no words forming.

Having Dean inside him (again, and yet for the first time) was indescribable. Part of him shook with the memory of pain, but there was no pain here, just the feeling of fullness as his body stretched.

"Kiss me," Cas said. Dean complied instantly, pressing his mouth to Cas's in a kiss both gentle and deep, reverent and needy. Cas returned the kiss with equal fervor, moving his hips experimentally to see how it felt.

Dean moaned, breaking the kiss.

"Can I... can I move?" he asked. He was shaking too, Cas noticed, with the effort of holding back.

Cas looked up at Dean. He looked into Dean's eyes, the dilated pupils surrounded by a thin green band, the openness of Dean's expression. There was naked desire and love in Dean's eyes, nothing like the carnality of his counterparts.

Cas could tell this Dean 'no', and Dean would restrain himself. Cas could tell this Dean 'stop', and Dean would pull back.

Cas put his hand on the back of Dean's neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Dean melted into it, opening his mouth when Cas's tongue swiped against his lower lip.

"Move," Cas whispered as the kiss broke. Dean groaned. He rolled his hips slowly, pressing against Cas as though he could get any deeper, then slowly sliding halfway out.

"I want to take care of you," Dean said. He kissed Cas again as he thrust back in. Cas shuddered in his hold, clinging to the sensations of warm flesh beneath his palms and a hot mouth against his own.

This was nothing like last time, he reminded himself. He kissed Dean again and raked his fingertips down Dean's back, concentrating on that instead of the movement of Dean's body as he set their rhythm.

Even that was different from when Dean's counterparts had fucked him; this was all slow glides and gentle rocks as the pleasure built, not the frantic and punishing pace of the others. Here, Cas was not being used. Here, he felt _treasured_.

Cas pulled Dean in for another kiss. Dean's tongue was wet and reverent, eager to supply the attention Castiel's mouth demanded. Cas lost himself in the kiss. He could feel the pleasure build with every slick slide of Dean in and out of his body, but that mattered less than the careful way Dean held him.

"Dean," Cas moaned. "More, please... don't stop."

_Don't stop kissing me._

_Don't stop loving me._

Dean complied eagerly with Cas's requests, both spoken and unspoken. His hips increased their rhythm, pounding faster and harder into Cas's body. The pleasure was intense, threatening to sweep Cas away on a wave of senseless memory, but Dean's mouth kept him grounded. There was not a moment when Dean wasn't kissing him; soft and deep on his lips, tongue worshipping his mouth, or sweet and chaste on his cheek, his forehead, his neck.

And then, Dean's hand found Castiel's own and held tightly. It was such a small thing, such a simple touch, but for some reason Cas felt his eyes water at the sensation of Dean's palm pressed against his own, fingers entwined.

Dean kissed the drops as they leaked from the corners of Cas's eyes.

"I've got you, Cas," Dean said. He squeezed Castiel's hand gently. "I got you."

That was it.

Castiel's orgasm hit him like a surprise and he cried out something that may have been Dean's name. Bliss was coursing through him, white-hot and overwhelming.

There was no pain. Not a drop of it. Just Dean, still holding him as though he was something precious, and the pleasure of Dean's body intimately connected to his.

Above him, Dean shook and groaned Castiel's name, then stilled as he climaxed. He collapsed on top of Cas, still buried inside him as far as he could go. His weight was heavy, but not crushing, and Cas was still too blissed-out to care.

Castiel just stared at the ceiling of Dean's room, breathing heavily. He felt boneless and relaxed. He was sore and sweaty, but he felt fantastic. His body was alight with pleasant lethargy. Though he knew they'd made a mess, he didn't feel dirty.

Was this what sex was supposed to be like?

Cas realized dimly that he was still trembling.

"Cas?" Dean asked. He sounded worried and made as if to push himself up to better check on Cas, but Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and clung tightly. Dean hesitated only a second, then he was wriggling his arms between Cas's back and the mattress to hold him in turn. "Cas? Was that... are you ok?"

Cas nodded. He couldn't bring himself to speak.

Dean waited.

Cas took a shuddering breath.

"This..." Cas said. He swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. "This is what I had imagined it would be like."

He had imagined Dean's hands, calloused but gentle, and Dean's mouth, knowledgeable but soft. He had imagined touch and sweet words and joy.

Not being tied up.

Not being used.

Not shame.

Dean's arms tightened around him.

"It should have been," Dean said quietly. They lapsed into silence. Dean just held Cas close, silently giving him all the support he could and hoping it would be enough.

Slowly, Cas began to relax. His hold loosened a little, then tightened again. Carefully, Dean shifted and pulled out of Cas's body, then slowly rolled them to take the weight off of Cas. Once face-to-face on the bed, Cas shifted even closer.

Dean just held him, stroking one hand up and down Cas's back.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Cas murmured.

"Thank you for letting me," Dean replied, voice equally soft. Cas smiled thinly. There was something tugging at his vocal cords, demanding to be said.

"The demon said... he said that with you, it would feel exactly like it did with him. And the others." Cas swallowed thickly. "It wasn't even close."

The two experiences were so disparate that Cas couldn't even think of them as being related. The feelings left behind by his experience with Dean's counterparts were worlds away from how he felt now.

This feeling was reminiscent of Heaven, back in the idyllic days before the War.

"I'd like to do this again sometime," Cas said. Dean squeezed him.

"I'm glad," he said, voice hoarse with emotion. He kissed Cas's forehead. "Let me go get something to clean us up?"

Cas made a quiet noise of assent, already feeling sleep pulling at him. Dean carefully slid off the bed and headed for the door. He pulled his robe off its hook and shrugged into it as he left.

Cas made himself comfortable on the bed. He curled up on his side and closed his eyes for just a moment, just while he waited for Dean to return with a rag to wipe the mess from his stomach and thighs...

He was asleep, a small smile on his face, before Dean came back with a damp cloth.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Cas woke slowly. His body was warm and lax, a little sore but it was a good kind of ache. It was one Cas thought he might eventually become accustomed to.

He didn't think he'd mind that.

He rolled over and came nose-to-nose with Dean's sleeping face. Cas smiled and stilled, mesmerized by the delicate fan of Dean's eyelashes and the slope of his nose. Dean's mouth was slack and he was drooling a little onto the pillow, but Cas thought Dean's face relaxed in sleep was endearing.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen Dean sleep; far from it. Long before they had started their relationship and begun sharing a bed, before Cas had Fallen, he'd enjoyed flying quietly in to Dean's room to guard his rest. The few times Dean had caught him at it, he'd called it 'creepy', but had never in truth seemed all that displeased by it.

Now that they were together, Dean seemed to like waking up to find Cas looking at him, though he still muttered a fond 'creepy' every now and again.

This morning, though, watching Dean sleep felt different. It wasn't a bad different. The soreness, coupled with the lingering, glowing warmth from last night left Cas feeling pleasantly lethargic whereas he was usually more eager to get out of bed and start the day. Right now, he was content to wait and memorize (again) the spread of freckles across Dean's nose.

As though sensing the scrutiny, Dean's nose twitched and Dean himself began to stir. Cas stayed where he was, watching as green eyes blinked slowly open, drifted shut, and opened again. Dean nuzzled his face a bit more into his pillow, then caught Cas's eyes. He smiled.

"Good morning," he murmured. He placed a gentle hand on Cas's face and pulled him in for a close-mouthed kiss.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas replied when the kiss broke. Dean ran his hand lightly down Cas's side to his hip.

"How you feeling?" he asked. Cas smiled.

"Good," he said. "I feel... good."

"Me, too," Dean said. They lay there for a moment in warm silence, and then Dean sighed.

"We should probably get up," he said reluctantly. He made no move to leave the bed.

"Probably," Cas agreed. He made no move to leave either.

Right now, the world was still just the two of them in their bed.

Cas wanted to keep this feeling for a little while longer.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will likely be additional fics in this universe, including a timestamp that takes place between REC and RWND. 
> 
> I have a tumblr! Feel free to come say 'hi' - bookkbaby.tumblr.com


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